


Your Everlasting

by Orionali



Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: (more like Tentacle Jobs), An Angsty Beginning, Blood, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Edging, Hand Jobs, Hyper Elements, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Dom/sub, Master/Servant, Other, Power Bottom Dracula, Submissive Top Inner Dracula, Tentacles, special thanks goes to my beta and the CV Discord servers for tutoring me in the art of PWP writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13196325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orionali/pseuds/Orionali
Summary: Dracul’s anguish is his castle’s poison, but the imprisoned demon does not wish to stew in silence and misery.





	Your Everlasting

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for this prompt (though I took a few liberties): https://castlevaniakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/979.html?thread=54483#cmt54483

Niflhel was a disaster.

Devastation and casualties in the thousands. Both sides sustained terrible losses – against all odds, the Brotherhood soldiers, the cornered rats, had put up a good fight. This shouldn't have happened! The swarm outnumbered them ten to one, and here he stood among the shredded remains of his minions – harpies, scavens, mermen, ghouls, and other creatures that lurked in the darkness. The musky smell of blood hung in the air and the earth, soaked, turned to muck beneath his boots.

Dracul pinched the bridge of his nose. Fifteen miles separated Niflhel and the tower of Farwatch; reinforcements could arrive at any time and exterminate what was left of this hapless detachment.

“I'm disappointed,” he said, pivoting to stare at the humbled remnants of the massacre: a few dozen of battered lycans. “But I am not judging. I should have been here, leading you.” He breathed a sigh. “Back to the castle. Let the Brotherhood relish in their pyrrhic victory.”

* * *

 _Something does not add up_ , Dracul thought, idly trailing a clawed finger along the rim of his favorite goblet. He could think of one person fearsome enough to tip the equilibrium in the Brotherhood's favor: Alucard. The boy fought on behalf of the Brotherhood, and those who had opposed his son now lay with their heads decapitated and limbs strewn across the Niflhel battleground. With his face set in a scowl, he rapped the padded armrest of his throne in frustration.

Warmth radiated throughout his body as he took a sip of blood... but the dark thoughts came back seconds later. The vampire lord buried his face in his hands and groaned. The stubborn, stupid boy. Assisting the same men who had signed his death warrant. Even as a vampire, Trevor was their trump card. And his own damned brood of followers, reproducing like rabbits and giving his son a reason to fight.

Dracul gazed at the vaulted ceiling of his castle with unseeing eyes. There had to be some way—

_“My Lord?”_

The foreign thought pounded behind his temples like thunder, something probing and prodding the edges of his conscious for attention. Dracul's shoulders hunched and a low growl escaped his throat, “Do you have a reason for intruding on my private thoughts? I'd like to hear it.”

 _“You've been neglecting your servants and us, my Prince,”_ a chorus of feminine voices answered. _“Are you in pain? Tell us what ails you?”_

“It's none of your business, creature.” He glowered at the statue of an angel wound around one of the pillars. The angel, dusted with gold, had its eerie eyes on him… as did all the others.

“Both you and my underlings can take care of themselves.” The creature… no, the Castle’s concern muddled his mind.

_“We know. But you are upset, distraught even. Every denizen of the castle can feel it. We want to help you.”_

“I'm _fine_. I will resume my reign when I am ready to resume my reign. Begone with you.” He guzzled the blood down in one gulp and leaned back, eyes squeezed shut.

 _“Very well."_  The Castle's influence faded, the presence at the edge of his mind gone for now.

Now, where was he? The Dragon scratched the nape of his neck. Things couldn't go on like this. There had to be some way to get in touch with Alucard. To get him to cease his attack. Or, at least, not have him back those double-dealing fanatics. He could only just bear the burden of knowing his flesh and blood did everything to thwart him.

Inadvertently, his thoughts wandered back to that eventful night. The stake that Simon had pierced his chest with left no scar – but the pain lived on. He had welcomed death... only to be greeted by an overcast sky and the inferior copy of the Vampire Killer sticking out of the nearby pile of debris. He remembered huddling into a shivering ball and sobbing, even as the Castle, roused by his presence, rebuilt itself around him. He learned an immutable truth that night: he could not die.

But Simon’s descendants did not know this. Time after time they stormed the castle, dead set on restoring honor to the Belmont name, and died. He couldn’t take pleasure in killing them: too many of these boys and girls flaunted his prowess in battle, Marie’s courage, Trevor’s single-mindedness, and Simon’s passion.

He slumped, tears hidden behind his eyelids, unshed. Normally, such thoughts would fill him with bitter, homicidal rage, but now, they simply left him hollow and weary. The goblet dropped to the floor with a dull clang.

A feeble murmur manifested itself and loitered in the far-off corner of the Throne Room. Conflicting emotions assailed him, and Dracul bared his teeth.

“I told you: I do not wish to be bothered,” he grumbled before the Castle could chime in. “You dare disobey my order?”

 _“With all due respect, my Prince, you shouldn't let these memories gnaw at you. Alucard has made his choice,”_ it muttered, its disquiet hemorrhaging, becoming his own. _“The past cannot be changed, and you must attend to the future."_

He rubbed at the middle of his forehead. “Every so often I wish you were mute.”

 _“We are part of you,”_ it continued, unfazed. _“It is our duty to shield you from these thoughts by any means necessary, and we will fulfill it no matter what. Even if you think you don't need our support and counsel.”_

Dracul didn't hold back a sneer. “You? You think you can help? You are a fiend from another realm. You are an abomination gorging itself on human essence. What would you know?”

The Castle paused – its unfeigned confusion eased his displeasure. _“We... we don't know.”_ Shame coated its numerous voices.

The vampire lord waved his hand. “Then leave me al—”

 _“But we've served mankind for millennia,”_ it interjected. _“Dr. Frankenstein, the Bernhard bloodline, the Dark Lady. We are mindful of the means that tide your species over. And you are human, after all.”_

“Watch. Your. Tongue,” Dracul hissed.

His sentient residence stammered. _“Ah, do forgive our indiscretion. However, physiologically, you are human. An adult male. This is what we meant to say."_

His brows pinched together. “What are you on about?”

The Castle chuckled as invisible, weightless 'hands' carded his hair and scraped at his scalp, a confirmation of Dracul’s suspicion. A shiver coursed its way down his spine and a lopsided smile creased his lips.

 _“Hrmm, how long has it been since you visited your mistress? ”_ Inner Dracul purred into his ear. _“No one can hide from our sight. That poor, beautiful, starved succubus Deleb misses you; we can tell it from the way she touches herself, hungrily fondling her clit in an effort to fill the emptiness you've left."_

Dracul leaned into the gentle caresses. The premise appeared basic and plausible – Deleb's unsatisfied libido was the stuff of legend. The ethereal hands moved and splayed across his chest.

An impression of raw, sadistic joy flooded him as the Castle continued, _“How long has it been since you had your way with a captive? Remember the girl? A lovely creature – a curvaceous brunette. Remember how she shrieked, squirmed even, as you fucked her? The uppity whore did not appreciate it. So when her irksome mewling got under your skin, you pushed her against the wall and drained her dry. Remember how sugary her blood tasted? Remember how that sweetness made you cum? What a glorious sensation it was, wasn't it? ”_

The vampire lord shifted and straddled his legs apart, allowing for the vivid memory to engross him. Breathlessness clutched at him as blood rushed to his groin; hidden underneath the two layers of blood-stitched fabric and metal, his cock was slowly stirring to life.

Many voices melted into one – gruff and recognizable. His own. _“And, most importantly, how long has it been since you jerked off? A year? Two? Nothing could top it. Oh, how you valued being able to see, to catch the exact moment you'd orgasm. Deny or speed it up. Watch your hot, sticky, white cum slither down your cock. You would then scoop some up and lick it off. And the slaves, around whom you liked to carry out the deed, were baffled: they did not understand as to why you would prefer this act of primal self-pleasure over them.”_

He was fully hard; the Castle's words and choice of tone hit home. Dizzy and gasping, Dracul bucked his hips to relieve some tension, but such act had an opposite effect. He bit back a moan as his erection rubbed against the rough texture of his pants. Had he really not had sex in the past two years?

 _Oh_.

That justified the weakened constitution.

But what’s worse, he no longer felt the beast’s presence close to him. The statues loomed, lifeless, and motes of dust whirled in the moonlight, undisturbed.

The vampire sat perfectly still, unwilling to risk it. “Is this its plan?” he muttered under his breath. “Arouse me for its own amusement and then leave? Should've known.”

 _“Oh no, my dear Prince,”_ Inner Dracul suddenly replied, borrowing his voice once more. _“You deserve so much more.”_

Dracul cried out when hands were shoved between his legs. They grasped and fumbled beneath the belt, traces light but firm. One played with his balls while the other stroked the swollen, clothed shaft. Right… _there_. The Dragon licked his lips. _There_ felt good. With a breathy huff, he concentrated and willed for his garb to revert.

Blood cascaded down his torso, leaving him bare and naked, and his cock, unhindered, proudly stood straight and tall. Above average for the typical male, and pale, with the exception of the charcoal-gray head, caused by the same affliction that had blackened his nails and fingertips. A tug on the veiny foreskin proved it didn't handicap him in any way. His dick was as sensitive as ever.

Propping a cheek on a fist, Dracul languidly pumped his cock. Maybe, just maybe, the Castle had a point. Maybe, this hedonistic lack of restraint would indeed release tension and clear his mind. His back arched as first droplets of pre-cum wet his cockhead. Smiling, the vampire lord sat back and covered the leaking tip with both hands.

 _“Do not get ahead of yourself, my Lord,”_ his doppelgänger's voice teased, making him pause and arch his brow. _“There is one thing we wanted to show you. Something you will like."_

The wanton, unadulterated desire of the Castle stung his senses, and Dracul's grip around his cock tightened against his will. Claws dug into the hard, sleek flesh, and he flinched with a snarl. As he opened his mouth to issue a tirade of verbal abuse (His other self and its poor timing! Sometimes the empathic link they shared drove him up the wall), a moist tearing sound made his skin prickle. His dick lurched, demanding attention, but there seemed... more of it? Without daring to look, the Dragon flicked his fingers across the length of his shaft and almost gulped.

It _was_ bigger. His cock had just grown by two inches – a rough estimate, as he had nothing on him to measure the difference with. His balls had swollen alongside his cock. Not by much, but the change was apparent to his trained eye. Dracul inhaled sharply.

“Explain yourself!” He ground his teeth.

The Castle's triumphant laughter reached his ears. _“It worked. It really worked! ”_

“Worked?! Why? How...” He looked down at his engorged organ.

The collective voices cackled gleefully, _“Your body is an extension of your will, my Prince. You can do virtually anything to it, and so can we. I am you. With your innate regenerative powers, we were able to… adjust and enlarge selective parts of your anatomy.”_

The sensual bob of his cock, vying for attention, forced Dracul out of his stupor. “I demand you undo whatever spell you have cast!”

Curse this rasp in his voice! The creature was bound to take notice.

And it did. _“Alas, my Prince,_ ” the Castle replied after a nonchalant pause. _“This once, we must disobey. For we have planned something truly amazing, and it requires a bit of..._ growth _. It won't hurt._ ”

Lust engulfed him as the Castle began its obscene work.

Warmth. Dracul jerked his head back and moaned. The smothered noise of ripping and rapidly healing flesh reached his ears, yet he felt naught but wild pleasure. Intoxicating warmth pooled in his lower abdomen. His blood, animated by Inner Dracul's magics, coursed and fed the change. Vaguely, he was aware of his cock growing, becoming fatter, oozing pre-cum first on to the throne's cushiony seat, then on carpeted floors. It was so _big_ , stiff and aching with need.

He needed… god, he simply _needed_ … someone, _something_ to fuck with this gloriously engorged cock and sate the desire that clouded his mind.

Writhing and grunting, he raked his nails across his chest and grazed his nipples, and as the pain chased the debauched thoughts away, and the vampire lord went limp. Fearing the worst, Dracul sneaked a glance down.

Oh, what the  _fuck_.

His cock was not huge; it was _enormous_. Was it almost three times longer and thicker than his typical erection? Bulging, purplish veins webbed the chubby shaft, the already swollen glans puffed up, and the throne beneath him was soaked. The weight of his balls – round and massive, they spilled over the side of the seat – had dragged his cock downward, and now hung low in their sack. Dracul rocked his hips back and forth. An... interesting sensation. Utterly obscene and unnatural, but interesting nevertheless.

Disgust could not quench the flame of his curiosity. The Dragon pulled his rock-hard shaft up by the foreskin and pinched the spongy, supple flesh of his cockhead. Then inspected it from every side. Apart from the peculiar club-like shape – the black, mushroom-like head topped the length – and the size, his dick looked and behaved exactly the same. As if justifying his theory, a small quantity of clear, viscous liquid leaked out of the slit. It glistened in the torchlight, inviting. Perhaps, if he leaned forward—

A blush crept up the vampire's cheeks as he ghosted over the hot, dripping glans with his lips. He didn't even need to bend over that much. The slight scrape of his beard against the wanting flesh and the tangy aftertaste in his mouth excited him.

Like so many times before, pressure began to build inside. His cock throbbed and shuddered, squirting pre-cum. His hands worked the shaft, further smearing the natural lubricant. His mind ached, a shadow cast over all reason. _Again_.

Dracul jolted with a muffled swear. Was he really giving head to himself?! Ugh, that was a new low. Hacking and retching, he sat upright and sought to reclaim control over his mind, body, and blood. As much as he wanted – needed – to cum, he couldn't. Not until he found his answers.

To his relief, some of the blood answered his call. A fibrous red band tightened around the base of his cock and balls, denying any reprieve. The knot of pain in his belly remained, but at least it subdued his libido. For now.

A gruff sigh escaped Dracul's wet lips, and he bounced a curled knuckle against his armrest. “I'm waiting for an explanation.”

He tried not to look down at his crotch.

His doppelgänger guffawed, a dim echo of its voice curling around him. _“It seems you've enjoyed our gift. We said it wouldn't hurt.”_

“You tread a thin line, abomination,” the Dragon snapped. “I've no patience for this foolishness.”

_“Foolishness, is it, my Lord? Alright, it is time you learned of our true intentions.”_

Blood seeped through the cracks in the walls, floor, and pillars, permeating the air with its mouthwatering aroma. The rivulets ran down, bubbling, interconnecting, and a beast rose from the freshly-formed depths. It was around fifteen feet tall, with amputated arms and legs, and several tentacle-like appendages for hair. But, most importantly, it wore his face. The Castle… no, Inner Dracul's avatar inched nearer and inclined its head in a reverent bow.

“You.” The vampire rolled his shoulders. “What is it you want?”

The creature's expression radiated with pride. “It is good you held back, my Prince. While your body is an instrument, your seed is nonetheless precious. As is the pleasure that follows the release.” It stared at his straining, quivering cock, and a hungry smile quirked its bloodied lips. “Exquisite. Yes, this is something I can work with.”

Understanding hit him: the Castle wanted to mate. It wanted to suck his cock like one of the concubines. And it exploited blood magic so it'd be able to give him a blowjob.

Dracul didn't know whenever to feel nauseated or aroused. On one hand, the thought of someone taking his enormous cock, soaking it in wet heat, swallowing around it… it was enough for him to lose focus and let the cord around his cock burst. And on the other – a voice in his mind shrieked – it was his own blasted face! His lips, his nose, his cheekbones! He wouldn't fuck a mirror image of himself, would he?

Except this wasn't a mirror image, but some demon that had borrowed his likeness. It didn't have a gender. They weren't even the same species. It was dust and stone, infused with blood and his own power.

No time left. The Castle loomed, its head - with his face - hovering over the drooling tip of his dick. He startled as a smooth, flat tentacle tickled his thighs.

“Command me,” the beast whispered, making eye contact. “Allow me to show you how much I love you, my Prince.”

The adulation coaxed an indulgent smile onto Dracul's lips. “Well, if you're this eager... Suck.”

His inner demon drew breath in a rapturous sigh and closed its lips around his massive cockhead.

The Dragon grabbed onto his throne's armrests and purred. That felt... _divine_. The suction, the flicking tongue. Dipping into the slit, it lapped up all the pre-cum it chanced upon. The slick, velvety walls of the creature’s mouth massaged him in a way he'd never experienced. It took a little more of him, teeth grazing the underside, and he let out a groan of lewd approval.

Tentacles wandered as the Castle serviced him. Three fondled his balls, two more traced the outline of his nipples, and the final one tugged gently on his lower lip, smearing fresh blood across his chin. He lunged, crushing the pesky tendril between his jaws, and when its flailing ceased he squeezed it, savoring every crimson drop it could offer. Snatching the shriveled, chewed appendage, he looped it around his wrist and held it in a loose grip.

Below, the Castle's breathing was becoming labored, and Dracul hid a sinister grin behind a hand. Overconfident creature. He yanked on his crude rein; several extra inches of his cock disappeared into the beast's mouth. Halfway there. His other self wasn't getting off easy; it had saddled him with this, and it was going to take him whole. The sound of gagging reached his ears, and he bucked his hips, further stuffing his cock down the demon's throat. Inner Dracul's white eyes bulged in their sockets at the invasion.

But when its gaze met Dracul’s, the Castle held nothing but adoration and carnal desire for its Master.

The vampire lord buried his hands in its oily hair – what wasn't a wormlike tentacle – and shoved it against himself. The cool, gore-sullied lips brushed the skin close to the base of his shaft. Bloody tears flowed down the beast's cheeks as it suckled and swallowed helplessly. Dracul settled back in his throne, hands clasped – he wanted to see whether the Castle would pull away or keep blowing him.

It did not move. It wheezed and it puffed, but it did not move.

He caressed the demon's temple, wiping its blood with his thumb – for an amateur, it did its job well. The poor thing's face – his own – was warped in pain. Its lips were reddened and wet. Its eyes were clouded with tears. Its forehead was beaded with dots of sweat from exertion. For an inhuman monster, the Castle behaved like a human...and he relished in its weakness.

But as good as goading a powerful demon into deepthroating him felt, it lacked  _friction_ . This made Dracul's cock plump, heavy with desire. The copious saliva coating it and the lazy fluttering of tendrils around his balls could not quench his lust. He needed _more_. His other self felt his frustration and pulled off with a pop before he could bark the order, and the doppelgänger's sharp teeth snagged the foreskin.

His hands slid across the soaked shaft without difficulty, and he threw his head back in ecstasy. No subtlety about this; he would attend to his huge cock until he came. So he did just that. Soon enough, he found himself lying prone atop the steps of the throne dais and furiously masturbating. After all, as much as he enjoyed sex, the idea of him being able to please himself just the way he liked heightened his desire. He was aware of the Castle's eyes following his every move but didn't care. He wanted for the tightness between his legs to go away.

Suddenly, Dracul's fingers caught on something flat and scaly – the demon's tentacle, coiled around his dick. He stared at it in momentary confusion as lust persisted in his addling brain. The delicate fragrance of salt and copper shot through his nostrils and into his head.

“Here,” his own throaty voice spoke, “let me help you.”

The tendril hugged his shaft, twisting around it like a spring, dragging itself up and down. This took a bit to sink in: the Castle was jacking him off. And that felt... _good_. His toes curled and breath hitched; it knew what it was doing. Where to nip, where to rub. Hah, a welcome contrast to its amateurish fellatio skills. Propping himself up on his elbows, he arched his hips in a complementary motion.

“Here, you are loved,” his doppelgänger husked, voice splintering into many gnarled undertones. “And we will _protect you till the end._ ”

Tentacles wormed past Dracul’s jaws, exploring. Gently, without triggering a gag reflex. They slithered, swirling around his tongue and cutting themselves on his fangs. Fluid – warm, luscious, with a piquant aftertaste – oozed down his throat. It couldn't slake the ravenous bloodlust he indulged on occasion, but it came close. The appendages withdrew, scattering cherry-red freckles over his body. Blood, saliva and pre-cum marbled the floor.

 _“You can do anything,”_ the Castle murmured, speeding up its movements. The moist squelch of the tentacle drowned out all other sounds or sensations. _“Your power is absolute,”_ it said. The demon's hot breath scorched his skin – it had leaned in, curled into Dracul’s body almost affectionately. _“You are the Prince of Darkness.”_

The worshipful utterance of his title drove him over the edge. Dracul grit his teeth – his climax built. With an animalistic growl in his throat, he grabbed a fistful of the beast's hair and rammed his dick into its mouth. The slurp of lips encircling the head overshadowed its snort of disbelief and denial.

“You will take...” The vampire lord grunted, each word punctuated by a thrust. “Ungh, take it all.”

Inner Dracul blinked, stare glassy.

His own eyes fluttered shut as he gave his lurching cock a final, decisive pat. His groin tightened and his balls pulled up. His cum raced up the inside of his shaft inch by inch – and he came into his servant's mouth, spilling his hot, delicious seed onto its tongue.

Its form stiffened, yet, to his pleasant surprise, it neither gagged nor pulled back. It sucked, snuffling and huffing, tongue drifting along the slit. Moaning lecherously, Dracul continued to fuck the demon's mouth, as his vampiric strength enabled him to deal with the much bigger creature as he pleased.

Not that his servant minded; it had to make sure to empty every last drop of his Prince. Noisy slurps filled the Throne Room as the creature lapped and swallowed his impossibly heavy load. A possible side effect of the Castle's spell? Ah, who cared. Some of the thick, pearly-white cum trickled out, staining the beast's chin. The Dragon cracked a smirk. Served his other self right: do not toy with blood magic and... _selective adjustments_ to his anatomy.

As the final drops of his seed flowed down the demon's gullet, the vampire yanked his spent cock out of its mouth. The tension of orgasm faded to the fuzziness of afterglow. Dracul breathed a sigh of relief and reclined against the leg of his throne as his fingers tended to his softening shaft. Off to the side, the armless creature reeled and coughed, tentacles coming to wipe at its lips. Silvery eyes peered at him.

“You should have warned me.” The Castle pouted. “I was unprepared.”

Dracul clasped the hands behind his head, unapologetic. “You claim to be a part of me? Then swallow what I give you to swallow. I will hear no refusal.”

“Always and forever, I exist to serve – and service – you, my Prince.” It nodded in approval as its gaze scanned over Dracul. “Your mood has improved.”

“Sex and a hot meal often do that,” he admitted. “And... my thanks. I needed this.”

“The pleasure is mine. If you are ever in need of my assistance, summon me whenever you wish.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Though, no offense, but I’m going to express a preference for human-sized partners.”

“None taken.” The fiendish doppelgänger wreathed all of its tendrils around him, lifting and gingerly setting him down back on the throne. “Nonetheless, promise me something, my Lord. Promise you'll take care of yourself? It pains me to see you suffer.”

His smile built. “Take care of myself? Fine. Mobilize the forces. Tomorrow, we march toward the tower of Farwatch, then Ambergarde Headquarters. We'll gut the Brotherhood imbeciles like the pigs that they are. This war will end with their total extermination.”

“At your order.” The Castle backed off and began to turn away.

“Wait,” Dracul called.

The beast spun around to gaze at him. “Yes? What is it, my Prince?”

“If you would be so kind,” the vampire lord began, feigning calmness, “abolish your damn magic. Having a large cock is fine, but I am still your master. I must act and look the part.” He gestured to his semi-soft dick that still leaked remnants of his load. “And this is _not_ it.”

Inner grinned sheepishly. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift that commemorates my 4th year anniversary in the Lords of Shadow fandom: the first PWP I've ever written (I'm technically late, but, oh well). I feel kind of dirty but at the same time relieved. Doesn't help that I want to write even more featuring good ol' Drac now. Should I make these potential excerpts a series, I wonder? I will still favor my multi-chapter gen fics over these, so don't expect me to churn PWPs out every week, but still, thoughts?


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